


The Biggest Cake Ever

by tipsy_gnostalgic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:18:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipsy_gnostalgic/pseuds/tipsy_gnostalgic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane's been gone for a year, but she's coming back today. Roxy's planning to meet her at the airport, but they didn't exactly leave off on a good note.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Biggest Cake Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meulin from homestuckies!!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=meulin+from+homestuckies%21%21).



Keep dragging your feet all you want. Scuffed shoes won’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have come. She won’t want to see you; she’ll have made cooler friends in cooler places. She’s been around the fuckin’ world. 

You used to scrawl silly high school dreams on the backs of test papers, giggling about the idea of sitting in fancy Parisian cafés with hot chocolate. Just silly high school dreams, but they came true for her. And you? You stayed here. You stuck around this town and spent the year wishing hanging out with Jake and Dirk wasn’t always so unfulfilling. It’s not that they’re boring, and you have no reason to dislike them (although you could do without Mr Strider’s control-freak tendencies). They’re just not the same. 

That much became obvious pretty soon after she left. You’d go out arm-in-arm, all 3 of you, laughing wildly as though you were all far too aware that one voice was missing. You went to fairs, movies, parties… anywhere that looked like a good time. You’ve got some great pictures of Jake making goofy faces - maybe she’ll want to see them. Maybe not.

When the nights started, you really did forget, losing yourself in the lights and the excitement and the dancing and the people. But later on the nights always wound down, the boys nestled closer into each other’s arms, and you found yourselves going separate ways. 

“G’night, Rox!”  
“Good night, Roxy.”

You always did your trademark wink-wave - a powerful WONK of your left eye simultaneous to an enthusiastic wave of your right hand. You always curtsied and bowed dramatically several times until the boys were laughing and begging you to go home already. And you always skipped merrily all the way down the street, turning left into the darkness. That was when it would really start: the crippling realisation that you were alone in the darkness without anyone to give a damn. No, the problem with Jake and Dirk isn’t that they’re Jake and Dirk. It’s that they aren’t Jane, never could be Jane. 

You’d anticipated the regret of letting her go without agreeing to stay in touch. You’d known it would be like that, and you’d known it would be awful. You’d then spent plenty of this year’s hollow nights, post-movie or post-whatever-distraction-you’d-gone-along-with, cursing yourself for that failure. Things had been so mixed up and messy that there hadn’t been any other way. Multicolour, magical, like fireworks and glitter and happiness. But fuckin’ messy too. 

A couple of weeks before she’d left, all four of you had been sitting around in her modest kitchen when you’d leaped up and announced your intentions to make a cake. A Big Cake. The Biggest Cake Ever. Jakey and Janey had been enthusiastic, but Dirk had started muttering objections. Pushing a shopping list into his reluctant hands, you’d dispatched him to get the ingredients, and Jake had followed. By looking through her cupboards, you’d managed find some of the basics: sugar, eggs, butter - and flour. Covering your mouth to silence the giggles as you crouched where she couldn’t see, you’d hastily daubed your face with the white, powdery ingredient. You’d crept towards her… slowly… slowly…. and jumped.

“BOOOOOO!” 

You’d never heard her scream so loud. Gathering herself up, she’d looked at you reproachfully (v cute) before bursting into her ‘hoo, hoo, hoo’ laughter. Clinging to each other and laughing as flour spread across the room, you’d sounded like a pair of gurgling drains. When the silence fell, her eyes were on you. She’d brushed your hair back from your face, swept the flour from your cheek, and kissed you. It should have all melted into place, plus a couple of other clichés, but instead you’d found yourself running home in confusion.

You really had meant to contact her, you had, but the words hadn’t been there. And then she’d left, and weeks had passed, months… a whole year. You let her slip away a whole year ago. Shit, you’re probably completely different people now. And you’re still not sure if you have the words, the confidence. Standing in Arrivals, surrounded by wailing children and weary parents, you start rehearsing. 

Hey, Janey! Do you still like to be called ‘Janey’? You always whined when I did it but I could tell you liked it. I hope you did. Did you have a good time? Oh… yeah… me… I’ve had an amazing year too. Yeah. 

Hey, Janey. LOL, so, remember that time I ran away from that kiss? It turns out I want to kiss you a whole load more. I wanna smooch ur face up. WONK, just messin’ with ya! Unless you want that too… 

Smooth. The smoothest. You wonder if it’s too late to get out of here without her seeing you. 

\--

You’re sitting in a gloomy little coffee shop. Posters are peeling off the walls, probably due to all the damp you can see forming nearby. You probably recognise the melancholy wailing of this seemingly endless song but you don’t want to spend too much time thinking about it. There’s a constant flow of people ducking in before checking their watches and hurrying away. You came in here to calm your nerves, but it’s hard to silence that internal monologue.

It was foolish to delude yourself into thinking she’d just step off that plane and into your arms without the need for any awkward explanations. You’ve been so selfish. Growing up, you cost her so much time with your problems, which seem so insignificant and petty in hindsight. What about her? Were you thinking of her feelings when you were running home that day? 

You sigh, resting your elbow on the table. It’s sticky. You don’t really care; it’s a form of atonement.  
Time passes. 

Maybe you should do something useful and get her a drink - the plane journey will have been unforgiving. Janey never did like journeys. Heaving yourself up and pushing the chair in with your tired foot, you chuckle lightly at the idea that a cup of coffee might undo all your self-centred actions to date. 

This line is slow-moving. You feel somewhat scornful of the others in this queue, with their inconsequential vacation plans and happy expressions. You’re above this. You’re complex. If you were a movie, you’d be one of those really thoughtful movies, probably in a different language. Not one of these ten-a-penny modern rom-coms you can see happening all around you, destined for minor conflict shortly followed by a sweet, simple ending. You’d probably be in black and white.

You’d pay good money for that simple ending.

Your phone makes a sound like it’s being slowly throttled - it was time to get a new one long ago - and you pull it out. It’s Jake. He wonders if you know that Jane is coming home today and wants to know if you’ll be free to hang out later. ‘Sorry, Jakey, we’ll be busy doing lots of the sex’ is what you actually consider responding with before you delete the message and toss the phone back into your bag. The idea of you and her so much as talking seems ridiculous at the moment. Wait a second. You thought you saw the time out of the corner of your eye, but surel-

Shit.

Aaaaand you’re running again. At least you’re consistent. This time, though, you’re going to mess up by running towards her. 

She’s not as pale as you remember. You used to gently tease her for that, but now it looks like she’s caught the sun. The freckles confirm that theory. Her glasses look different - trust Janey to lose her glasses abroad. You bet she lost them at least 3 times in the first week. Or maybe she changed her style, changed her mind…. changed her mind about you. 

Her hair… wow… why didn’t you notice that before? The limp, drooping strands that used to incessantly haunt her face have been replaced with a sleek, smooth crop, and it really suits her. You watch her as she places her bags - that worn, familiar backpack she used to bring to sleepovers and a larger suitcase you don’t recognise - on the ground, stretches out and smiles. It’s a beautiful smile, but it’s not for you. 

“J-Jane! Hey!” You trip over the words, coughing. What a mess.  
“Roxy…. what are you doing here?” 

She doesn’t seem angry. This Jane is unfailingly calm and collected. She’s looking at you steadily, waiting for your answer, and you get the feeling she’d happily wait all day. You almost wish she was furious with you.

Something tells you that you need to do something now, so you tell her you can’t talk here and send her over to get permission from her parents. You see them glancing at you with suspicion and you can’t really blame them. They noticed all the times you didn’t go over to see them, all the questions you didn’t ask about her trip, all the letters she didn’t mention you in. Whatever. You’re going to take her to that disgusting fuckin’ coffee shop, you’re going to be strong, and you’re going to explain.

\--

She’s a good listener, this New Jane. You like that. She listens, she looks at you with genuine concern, and she holds your hand when you get to the hard parts. Crying, missing her, feeling out of place, feeling pure, inescapable guilt. But you know she’s still waiting to say something.

“Roxy… it was hard for me too, you know? I don’t really think you thought about that before I left. We were best friends and you treated me like a stranger… and I’ve grown up since then.”

It’s okay. It’ll be okay. She doesn’t love you but you can deal with that, you can accept it, you can move on, you can be friends… you’re not even convincing yourself. It feels like your body has stopped working.

“I didn’t spend this year waiting for you, Rox. I’ve been living. I’ve seen things and I’ve kissed people and I’m different now.”

It’s hard to know where to look. You hope the people around you aren’t paying attention.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m bitter. I had a lot of feelings for you, Roxy… I still have them. I just need to know you won’t run away. I can’t put everything on hold while you figure yourself out.”

You still don’t have the words, but this time you don’t need them. You stand up and throw your arms around her, locking her to you forever, obliterating her doubts, tearing them up. You kiss her and it’s a real, assured kiss. No silly teenage uncertainty. 

“Now, I think we have a cake to bake.”

“Yeah, Janey,” you agree. “The Biggest Cake Ever.”


End file.
